An Act of Desperation
by imsmith
Summary: Jareth's power is waning, and he must resort to desperate measures to save himself. Oneshot--edited.


There is a place where you can arrive only by wishing. No plane, nor car, nor any other form of earthly transportation will bring you into this realm where dreams and fantasy merge and the only thing "real" is a slightly dizzy feeling when you wake up…if you do. And when you wake up, it may not be in your bed.

In this realm you cannot get to, cannot explain, and cannot escape, there is only one who can predict the horrifying wonders of this world. A King, a ruler of goblins, who can hold the power of this enchanting world in the palm of his hand, as though it were a crystal that would be amusing to shatter. What goes on in his mind is a mystery to all, save himself…

There is but one weakness in this being, for the Goblin King was in love with a girl named Sarah. He only wished he could take her in his arms and…

The King of Goblins looked up from the latest story and laughed aloud. His mocking laughs echoed off the stone walls, as his goblins ran to hide under tables, though a few of the more witty ones giggled along with their master. The things these mortals believed! They were always so gullible, so trusting. They wrote these romantic fairy tales, each more absurd and impossible than before and _believed_ them! But then, they had always been that way, so surprised to see him there after they had offered their children up to him. Then, of course they would beg and plead for mercy, for kindness, to take them instead of the child…which only resulted in both child and guardian being lost to his realms. Stupid, mindless, mortals they were; at least the wildlife knew to avoid the snowy owl with feathers gleaming too white, to run away from the twisting maze and all its creatures. But humans lacked this instinct, or simply ignored it; most looked upon his crystals and never returned from their dream worlds. The few who attempted his labyrinth ended up…well, he smiled to himself, there was no lack of dark and evil places in the labyrinth.

Little did those ignorant mortals realize that their demise only gave him greater power. Every wandering soul in his maze gave him more control over the world above. The Goblin King smiled to himself. It was like a gigantic mousetrap, though his prey was a good deal stupider than a mouse, and he needed no tasty morsel to lure his prey.

Yes, he had caught many in his trap, never mind how mothers and fathers warned of the dreaded Goblin King in the same tone they talked of witches and fairies. But times changed. Jareth had watched as science overcame myth, and television took the place of the old tales. The mindless fools actually protected children now, with their various acts and missing child banks and machines. He hated machines. Suddenly, true magic had become parlor tricks for children while humans worshipped awkward loud chunks of metal. And for what? To power a single light, open a solitary door, extinguish a small fire. All things magic had been doing for years. As magic became mundane, the stories about its wielders died as well. And when stories die, so does belief. The unwanted children that came to him trickled down to a few each decade, until suddenly, it stopped. As his victims' numbers had dwindled, so had his power. He no longer had the strength to rise above his kingdom; it was only a matter of time before he was lost to an unknown realm; for he had been growing weaker and weaker; wrinkles creased his once smooth brow, and his hair was grey even in dark lights. Jareth, the Goblin King, once worshipped and feared in so many circles, was now completely forgotten.

It was then that he wrote _The Labyrinth_.

It was truly an act of desperation. He wrote it to revive the picture of the famous Goblin King, the majestic monarch and his dangerous puzzle, the labyrinth. He told the story through the eyes of Sarah, a 15-year-old dreamer that this deluded world could sympathize with. She was everything the world wanted her to be; pretty, smart, brave, why, she even charmed the Goblin King, winning his love. There was only one thing Sarah was not; real. But the world had fallen in love with the story. There was even a movie made, complete with Labyrinth watches, lunch boxes, and t-shirts. While the movie was not a box office success, it was for Jareth. Millions had been alerted to his presence, and children once more filled his kingdom. The wrinkles vanished, his power strengthened, and once more, he was indomitable. Once more, he could relish the pleasures of the Upper World, which had changed so much since he had last been strong enough to return. The people were different, too. Before, few 

would dare chance the labyrinth, but now, so many fools were convinced that they could solve it, as Sarah had. They might have, too, if the labyrinth they encountered was anything like the one in the book. There were no kind creatures to aid them, and the Helping Hands were pure nonsense. They believed everything they had read in the book, and followed the tome like some kind of Bible. He chuckled to himself, remembering the many that had perished in the oubliettes of despair. Imagine if they had known the oubliettes were shortcuts to the city for the Goblins who couldn't remember their way back to the city (which was all of them, Jareth thought grimacing).

Still, it made it all the more interesting for Jareth. The betrayed looks on their faces when they found that Hoggle had not led them to the Goblin City, the shock that Sarah was not real (Humans had such peculiar logic, thought Jareth. They assumed that since the Goblin King was real, Sarah was, too), and the cold realization, that dumb look of disbelief when they realized that indeed, he _did _have power over them…and that he wielded it mercilessly. The shocked dismay of the labyrinth's participants only made his strength grow. But after a few years, he was forgotten again. A few calls came occasionally, but it was obvious that belief in the Goblin King was fading again, and he was out of ideas.

That was, until the internet revived his name. Machines, it seemed, were just another tool to capture the souls of the naïve. And a powerful one, as well. The internet touched star-eyed teenagers and adults alike, filling his being until he surpassed even his powers of bygone days. Now, he watched as these mortals made a god of him, worshipped him as they once had. Even more hilarious were the stories they wrote, so full of love and passion, hanging doggedly on to his "romance" with Sarah. And then there were those who half-believed, who uttered the words doubtful of their effect, only to plead pitifully when he arrived at their door. His powers now rivaled those that he had in the bygone days. Never again would he shift into the realms of the forgotten.

With a casual sigh, he flicked his wrist as a crystal obediently appeared. He stared into the orb, holding it close to his face, as he arrived just in time to see the finale of a teen-aged girl's soliloquy.

"…and I wish the goblins would come and take you away. Right now!"

And then, he was gone.


End file.
